The Boy Who Died
by Legion-One
Summary: Voldemort, my way. What if something else happened on Halloween?
1. Default Chapter

Prologue: Of Things To Come 

He flinched as he heard another scream. Berating himself for the reflex, he stopped walking, breathing deeply in an effort to compose himself. Satisfied that he had retained his calm demeanor, the man continued his stroll along the alley. He was clad in a black hooded cloak, black, dull and ungleaming, pulled up over his head to obscure his face. The cloak covered him to his boot tops; the cowl tugged well forward so no part of him showed. The wind that beat at the man had not so much as shifted a fold of that black cloak.

He gazed upwards, hoping to catch a glimpse of a night sky filled with stars and constellations, bringing with them memories of astrology sessions and random bits of information glazed from browsing. Draco, Antares, Orion. The stories, myths, legends surrounding them. Not to his surprise, all he saw was a blank sky; the bright London nightlife overshadowing any star. 

He returned his eyes forwards, seeing but not observing; his mind distracted by thoughts of the past, his past. A past filled with blood and death. Darkness and power. He didn't need John telling him to face his actions. But he didn't see himself as a villain. He knew what he had done yet regretted nothing. He grinned to himself, remembering their last dialogue.

_"Don't try to romanticize me John. I'm not going to wake up one day and find a bloody conscience."_

_"God forbid anyone call you soft. But I'm not talking 'bout that. Sod the morality thing. You have to see the truth for what it is. This won't work. You have to realize that Voldemort can't win. Mark my words; it'll end in bloodshed. And not in our favour."_

One thing led to another, and next thing he knew they'd hatched a plan to rid the Death Eaters and stop the reign of terror. Apparently it all lay with the boy. The boy who had to power to change the world. _The one with the power…born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…_He despised prophesies really. As if it were ever as simple as that. Not all could be taken at its face value. For everything it said straight out, there were ten that could mean a hundred different things. As it was, the prophecy wasn't even complete. The fool who had overheard was half drunk when it happened and any attempt at prying at the drunk's memories were halted after he had lost his temper. A wry grin crossed his face. Pity really. While he was dim-witted, he had been useful muscle when needed and had the knack of being at the right place at the right time.

As far as he remembered the only fools who dared crossed with the Dark Lord himself three times were the Potters.

_"Longbottoms. Don't forget the Longbottoms."_

_"That oaf?"_

_"Yup. Triple Defier Longbottoms."_

_"When?"_

_"Let's see…the bust in Manchester for one. The raid in Sussex. Oh and don't forget that cock-up with Nott."_

_"I can't believe it. He's about as smart as belly-button lint."_

_"What can I say? So there you have it. It's either Harry Potter or Neville Longbottom."_

_"Still say it's the Potter kid."_

_"Why are you so adamant? Anyways, you have to keep in mind that Lily's a Muggleborn. Longbottoms on the other hand; Purebloods."_

_"Trust me. It'll be James and Lily's boy."_

They knew they had to plan the whole operation so that the rest of the world would never find out. They sat alone in the house considering the several alternative ways in which they might be able to deceive the wizarding world. After hours of unproductive thought, the idea finally came. They went over the problems and repercussions again and again until he was convinced nothing could go wrong.

Unconsciously, his head jerked to his left, reacting to the burst of magic he felt. Part of his blood reacted to the darkness he knew was being wreaked by the spell. Adrenaline made his heart pump faster, his blood pulse more violently. Knowing that resistance was futile, he willing reached for it, extending a metaphorical hand. His eyes opened wide, and he straightened himself, gasping and staring and shivering as he finally seized what he was seeking. Power slid along his bones, pure essence of fire. Something more. Power froze his marrow. Something to kill them all; all of them at once. The taint on his magicrolled over him, a mountain of rotting filth threatening to bury his soul. Raising his wand, he drew on his magic, drew on it till it seemed he must scream screams of frozen flame. He had to kill them all. Power raced through him, a raging torrent that threatened to carry all that was him into the spinning. He had to let go. He had to.

"MORSMORDRE!" 

And something vast, green, and glittering erupted from his wand; it flew up over the buildings and into the sky. It was a colossal skull, comprised of what looked like emerald stars, with a serpent protruding from its mouth like a tongue. As he watched, it rose higher and higher, blazing in a haze of greenish smoke, etched against the black sky like a new constellation. He chuckled, amused at the result.

Suddenly, the streets all around him erupted with screams, the only possible cause the sudden appearance of the skull, which had now risen high enough to illuminate the entire place like some grisly neon sign. He scanned the darkness for anyone who might have been watching him and felt no one. Satisfied that enough had been done, he vanished from sight, only to reappear in a clearing in a forest, empty save a large tent, guarded by another robed man. He glanced at the Death Eater who nodded to his unspoken query. 

With that, Lord Voldemort entered the tent.

~*~


	2. One

**_Chapter One: An Old Acquaintance_**

Lord Voldemort's wandered about his private audience chamber, but dark eyes hazed with thought saw nothing. The single chair in the room - heavy, high-backed, and almost a throne - was as invisible to him as the few scattered tables that completed the furnishings. Even the dull-cloaked man kneeling with barely restrained eagerness on the floor had vanished from his mind for the moment. He was a very short man. His hair was tousled and there was a beginning of a bald patch on top. He was a plump man who seemed to have found a love of food that equaled his hate for exercise. He looked around, his breathing fast and shallow. Voldemort saw his eyes dart to the door and back again.

Eventually, the man looked up to see the Dark Lord staring down contemptuously at him. Giving a start, he backed away fearfully. Voldemort chuckled darkly.

"So, my most covert agent has returned. With good news I pray? I would be very … upset, if it were anything but."

"Great news, my Lord. It is what you have been wanting, my Lord."

"Do not presume to know my wants, Wormtail. I'll decide whether I should be satisfied."

"Of course, my Lord. My apologies. The Potters', my Lord. They have gone into hiding."

"It seems you are disappointing me instead."

"Not that, my Lord. But…but they have chosen me as their Secret Keeper. Me, my Lord."

"Pleasing news indeed, Wormtail. You shall be well rewarded. Be gone."

Peter Pettigrew thanked the Dark Lord profusely and scuttled forward to kiss at his robes, before changing to his Animagus form, the rat and scurrying his way under the tent. Sighing at the man's actions, Voldemort lowered himself into his high-backed chair. He shifted on the hard chair, trying to find comfort for his old bones. Not for the first time he thought vaguely that perhaps a cushion would not be too much luxury. And not for the first time, he pushed the thought away. The world tumbled toward chaos, and he had no time to give in to age.

A deferential tap on the door brought him out of his dark thoughts. "Come!" he snapped.

A Death Eater in coat and breeches of black bowed his way in. Eyes to the floor, he announced Malfoy. Lucius Malfoy appeared on the man's heels, not waiting for Voldemort to speak. The Dark Lord gestured the servant to leave. Before the door was fully closed again, Lucius dropped to one knee with a flourish of his snowy cloak. 

"As you have commanded my presence, my Lord," he said in a strong voice, "so have I come."

"So you have, Lucius. Tell me news of those idiots that call themselves the Ministry and what foolery they have carried out against me."

~*~

The time had come. To see if their best laid plans would come awry. He could already see Godric's Hollow hovering in the distance. His gaze turned to Wormtail, who was rubbing his hands anxiously, fearful of his Master's wrath. All he felt was death and corruption, like maggots crawling in his mouth. It was a torrent that threatened to sweep him away, a raging flood he had to fight every moment. He strained to keep his magic under control. It would be a waste to squander it before he faced James. He stared again at Wormtail as they came up to the front gate. A cynical smirk crossed his face.

"Do you know what I hate more than these Light heroes, Wormtail?"

"No, my Lord."

"Tattletales."

~*~

"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off --"

James Potter's next words were cut off as the door blasted open and Voldemort, in all his glory stepped in. Before James could fire off a curse, he thumped into the wall. 

"Seriously, the trouble a man takes to find you people, and the first thing you do is accost him? I'd thought you better, James."

Though he was coughing blood, James still found breath to answer. "Filth like you is never welcome here, Voldemort."

"You words wound me, James. I thought we were becoming close? Never you mind then, I'll return the wounds tenfold by the end of tonight." And the two launched an array of spells towards the other.

Upstairs, Lilly flinched as she heard the clash occurring in Godric's Hollow. Unconsciously, she held Harry tighter, trying her best to calm her firstborn. One thing she despised with the whole Secret Keeper business was that it denied them any opportunity to apparate from inside the house. Saying a silent prayer for her battling husband, she was just about to leave through the window when James was sent bursting through the floor and slammed on the ceiling of the nursery. Her insides screamed as she surveyed her beloved's battered body as he crashed to the floor. Blood was streaming from cuts found all over, and she could see a nasty gash on the back of his head. Fearing the worst, she readied herself. Voldemort calmly floated up from the hole James had just created and in her eyes, bore not a single injury from the conflict.

"Ah. Evening, Lily. Thought I might pop by, haven't seen you Potters in such a long time."

"Hasn't been long enough by my standards, Voldemort."

Any form of resistance was futile, she realized, when she could barely move a muscle.

"Is that the new addition? He's an adorable one. Has your eyes."

"Scum like you have no right talking 'bout him." James was clearly hurting, but the hate still burned brightly in his eyes even as he strained to right himself.

"Looks like our dear James has found himself well again to join the party. Let's give him a hand shall we."

With a wave of his wand, James flew into Harry's crib, demolishing it. Lily could only watch as James struggled to get up again. Hoping to take Voldemort's attention away from him, she spoke.

"What do you want?"

"What I have always asked for. The Potters' bearing my Mark, swearing their loyalty to me. Is that really too much to ask?"

"Never. As long as the Light still has hope, we will never bow to you."

"Blah. Do you really have to such a downer, Lily? All those daring words. But would you risk your child?"

Voldemort extracted Harry from her grasp and gently cradled him. He turned his attention back to the boy's parents.

"All you have to do is say yes, just once. I'll put you above any of my Death Eaters. Give you all the power or gold you should want. No? Pity then."

Voldemort swiftly turned and before the couple knew it, he raised his wand and aimed it at Harry.

**"AVADA KEVADRA!" **

Green light flashed before their eyes, before a pulse of magic beat at them followed by a loud explosion. Darkness came.

~*~

They really were such dramatics. Even in their own minds.

He sat there for a while, with Harry on his arm, staring at the couple spasming on the ground. Truth be told, he'd say they sounded pretty pompous towards the end. His other arm was still working his wand, maintaining the intricate spell he was weaving on them. He had to take precautions that no one would find out what had actually occurred here, would suspect that his showdown with the Potters' was just an illusion. Well, the part after he entered the nursery was anyway. He had knocked out Lily before she could reacted and just carried on from there. While he was confident no one would bother to delve into their minds, one can never be too sure. So he laid out some defensive measures gleefully. He almost hoped they'd try. A threatening light shone in his eyes; they seemed gray storm clouds. There would be quite a surprise awaiting anyone who tried to meddle with their memories. He knew he also had to do something about the house. Knock it down. Albus would probably pry here, and it wouldn't do for that old fogey to sniff out his best-laid plans. Also had to erase the residue of the illusion spell. All, he had planned for, of course. Once all the proper measures had been carried out, he carefully carried his new ward away.

Ah, yes. His new ward. Harold James Potter. He had no doubt it would be young Harry. John was ever the worrywart. Longbottom's child indeed, he snorted. He gazed down at the sleeping child. Even a year old, he had the makings of a handsome boy. A thousand Galleons the Longbottom child wouldn't grow up to be half as dashing as this one. And the Power! He was so strong, so full of potential. His first glance at the child banished all thought of John's plans for those Longbottoms. Harry's power would overtake John's before he even reached his prime; and John was just shy of the Dark Lord himself. 

As he walked out the door at Godric's Hollow, the house crashing down behind him, he wondered whether it still could be done using Wormtail. It would be a pity really if he had to hunt down another of his followers. A pity and a real bother. He strolled down the walkway, baby Harry in tow, humming a tune in a paltry attempt to soothe the child's sleep. The pair stopped at the gate, and Voldemort stared up for a moment to observe Wormtail's hanging body swaying faintly. Then he slowly stretched an arm up and reached for the cadaver's left arm, for the Dark Mark, and pressed his long white forefinger to the brand. With no visible reaction, he sighed. Should he try Malfoy then? The world would not be bereft if he perished and Narcissa could take better care of young Draco. Then, slowly but surely, the Mark turned jet black. A malicious look passed his face and Voldemort lashed out. Satisfied, the man, together with his young charge blinked out of existence.

~*~


	3. Two

Chapter Two: Repercussions HE WHO MUST NOT BE NAMED CONQUERED BY BOY WHO DIED 

_In a brief statement on Tuesday night, acting Minister for Magic Barty Crouch finally confirmed that He Who Must Not Be Named has been defeated and banished._

_"It is with a light heart to proudly proclaim that You Know Who has been defeated on Hallows Eve. The Ministry, with help from Albus Dumbledore, were delayed in confirming this great victory as we wanted to be sure what exactly transpired last Saturday," said Crouch, not at all bothered by nerves. "It seemed that You Know Who attacked Godric's Hollow with the objective of slaying the Potters'. From what we can gather, He was able to prevail over Lily and James. However as he cast um…the Killing Curse on their young child, Harold James Potter, the boy managed to somehow defeat You Know Who. Unfortunately young Harry did not survive the curse and he too died. We will mourn for the Potters' loss."_

_The Minister's announcement brought about celebrations all around the country, which caused more trouble as many reckoned it appropriate to set off fireworks and mingle with the Muggle folk. Some disbelievers, while they number few, question the validity of the announcement. They demand to see the corpses, to know why exactly He Who Must Not Be Named deemed the Potters' important enough to attack them alone, at his own risk. They also question how exactly a child could banish the Dark Lord._

_This reporter also managed to find out the state of the remaining Potters'. Most of the Ministry's knowledge came from Lily Potter, who was awake the day after the attack. She was not badly hurt, only suffering some injuries when the house caved in on them. James Potter, on the other hand, is still in critical care, having taken a beating at You Know Who's hands. _

_While we still hope for James Potter's health, we can only celebrate at the joy his son brought us, Harold James Potter; The Boy Who Died._

~*~

"They parade him around, naming him their saviour. Celebrating, rejoicing his death. They even made up a name for him, did you know. The Boy Who Died. The boy who bloody died for them and they shout his name in jubilation. This?  This is what we were protecting? These bastards. Had I known, I'd given 'em all up to Voldemort. I don't know whom I blame more, Peter, Sirius or Albus himself. Peter should be glad he's dead. What I'd give to have my hands around his neck. Screw my wand; I'll kill with my bare hands. He was a Death Eater, did you know? Had the nice black brand smack on his left arm. You'd think such an obvious mark would be easy to spot. So much for a Secret Keeper. Sirius's brilliant plan no doubt. I can just picture him celebrating with the rest of them. I haven't seen him at all. Remus hasn't been around too. Albus came though, fat lot that did. Oh shut it, you know I can't stand the man. You were always like a puppy though, trying to please him. He had the whole depressed look down, explained the whole prophecy. Told him he could shove the prophecy up his craggy ass. You knew, didn't you. Maybe not the whole thing, but that it involved their famous Boy Who Died. Don't think I can fault you though, you woolhead. I knew what I got into when I married you. … I … I don't think I can even bring myself to say it. … Harry's dead. Our boy is dead, James. Our boy is dead and you can't even wake up."

~*~

DEATH EATERS IN CUSTODY 

_In a shocking conference made last night, newly appointed Minister for Magic Cornelius Fudge has claimed that the Ministry has a number of Death Eaters in custody, awaiting further interrogation. It seems that when The Boy Who Died banished the Dark Lord, he managed to stun all those who were connected to him. Among those found stunned were McNair and Nott, both who were under employ of the Ministry. Another great shock was the discovery that Barty Crouch Jr., the previous acting Minister's son himself, was a follower of He Must Not Be Named._

_In other news, Sirius Black and Remus Lupin have been released from further questioning for their part in the attack at Godric's Hollow. It was thought that the pair, along with Peter Pettigrew, had been plotting together with You Know Who. The Ministry, however reports that they had no involvement._

_Sirius Black, who is well known for his … … …_

~*~

"So what now, Albus?"

"There is nothing much the Order can do except observe."

"So we'll do what we've been doing so far; sitting on our behinds."

"Unfortunately, yes. The Ministry has the Death Eaters under control, and Cornelius does seem to have everything in order."

"Death Eaters, my arse. Malfoy is still in his mansions isn't he. So are the Lestranges'. They're the ones who matter."

"Regrettably, they were not amongst the ones caught stunned."

"What will happen to Severus then?"

"His hearing will be held this coming Monday. I trust he will be set free after I see to it."

"And Lily and James?"

Albus grimaced faintly at Molly Weasley's query. "Lily is fine while James has passed the critical stage. The healers say he will wake up any day now."

"How's about the rest of 'em Marauders, eh Albus?"

"Ah yes, Mundungus. While Peter was, as you know, a spy for Voldemort, Remus and Sirius are not in cahoots with him. I pray all your concerns are settled?"

"One last question, sir, if I may. What … what exactly happened at Godric's Hollow that Halloween?"

"We may never know, Hestia. Power begets power, perhaps. Maybe James can tell us, after he wakes up. I do know this though, whatever happened, be grateful we are rid of Voldemort. And mourn the death of Harry Potter. He was much too young to be involved in our fight and was far too soon taken from James and Lily. Pray none of our children will never have to live through hard times again."

As the group of wizards left his office, Albus could only smile sadly, observing the motley crew who had aided him. A lone tear traveled his cheek, and he whispered to himself, "I am sorry, James, Lily. So very sorry."

~*~


End file.
